Bounty (Colorado Mountain 7)

Any friend would do that.

I just opened the door ready for bed and there we were, in bed together, cuddling and bantering.

Lacey would do that (including the cuddling). Bianca would too. Hell, we’d all three done that together on a variety of occasions when life got tough or we were just drunk and being crazy but doing it together.

A male friend who knew I had a thing for him?

No.

I felt at this point it was safe to say that Deke’s boundaries were getting really fucking blurry.

And perhaps at this point I needed to get a firmer understanding of them before I inadvertently stepped over a line I didn’t know was there.

“Deke?” I called.

“Quiet, gypsy, go to sleep.”

“But, um…”

I didn’t know how to broach it.

“Wood’s back to work at your place tomorrow. Max has cleared his day so he can work with us too. Three men, two laying, one cutting, we can get more of your ceiling in.”

I wanted a ceiling, like…bad. My ceiling was righteous, more of it would be enormously righteous.

But I wanted more to know what was happening with Deke.

“Honey,” I whispered.

He pulled me up and closer so my face was in his throat.

“Sleep, Jussy,” he whispered back. “You had a good day. Give you a good day tomorrow. Get a brief from Chace, from Decker. Get you a ceiling. That’s tomorrow. After that, we’ll worry about the next day.”

I didn’t know what he was saying.

But I still kinda knew what he was saying.

Or hoped I knew.

I also dreaded what else it could be.

The hope was that all this meant something had changed for Deke.

The dread was that he was just that guy who looked out for folks.

Heck, just that day Lauren told me it was him that took her to the hospital after her ordeal and she’d been told he hadn’t left until Tate came out to tell everyone she’d woken up and she was all good.

And Lexie had told me over mani-pedis that it was Deke Ty called when the dirty police chief showed to do a random inspection of the then-parolee Ty’s house in order to plant drugs and get his parole revoked. Deke had dropped everything so he could show, taking Lexie’s back, taking Ty’s.

It was clear he did that kind of thing.

That could be what he was doing for me.

Though, he could do it on the couch.

I knew he felt my tension when he asked gently, “Baby, what’d I say?”

“Sleep,” I answered.

“Yeah.”

“Can I say one thing?” I asked.

He hesitated and on a sigh allowed, “One thing.”

I got one thing in that moment; I wasn’t going to waste it.

So I didn’t.

“Dad would have really, really liked you.”

His arms tensed around me in a move that seemed involuntary, doing this so tight, I felt the breath squeezed out of me, before they loosened and he tilted his big body, giving me more of his weight and warmth.

But he said nothing.

I gave him that, the best gift I had to give, and I gave him more, deciding to take his advice.

Get through tomorrow.

Then worry about the next day.

So I said nothing as well and I was drifting, close to sleep when I heard him whisper, “And my ma would’ve fuckin’ loved you.”

My eyes shot open.

No longer close to sleep, I whispered back, “Deke.”

“Sleep.”

“Deke.”

“Jussy,” another powerful squeeze, “sleep.”

“God, you’re annoying,” I snapped at his throat.

“Justice.”

“Deke.”

He said no more.

I glared at his shadowed throat.

He still said no more.

I kept glaring.

After a while, I stopped glaring and started drifting again.

But it was only when I took more of Deke’s weight after his drifting took him where he needed to be, the same place I was going, did I finally get there with him and fall asleep.

Chapter Twelve

Quick on the Uptake

Deke

Deke handed Jussy her mug of joe and felt his lips twitch when she lifted her hands, wrapped them around the mug and pushed out, “Guh.”

He moved back to the coffeemaker, poured his own, turned his ass to the counter, leaned against it and looked to her in her preposterous PJs tucked in the corner of his couch, heels to the seat, knees to her chest.

It was Sunday morning and she was still in his trailer.

Deke felt no shame taking advantage of a bad situation as well as Jussy’s feelings for him, doing both to keep her right there.

He studied her, pleased to see that the bruising around her neck had faded quickly. There were shadows there but nowhere near as angry and they would likely be gone in a day, two tops. There was no swelling and only minor purpling left around the outside and under her eye, the rest of the discoloration at temple and cheekbone had turned yellow and Deke figured it’d disappear altogether in just a few days. Her voice was back to normal and she’d long since lost the stiffness in her body, moving normally, not carefully.

That wasn’t the only progress made that week.

Deke had made calls to anyone he thought might lend a hand, sharing that he wanted to give Jussy as much progress at her place as he could. He reckoned if he could transform it, make it more the home she was hankering to have, it would erase memories of it being violated and create a space that was hers where she felt safe.

His buds had jobs and businesses to run but they came and gave time as often as they could. Sometimes it was only a couple of hours. Sometimes entire mornings or afternoons. Wood came back. Ham, his friend who managed a bar in Gnaw Bone, was there most often, giving a few hours every afternoon, able to do this since he worked nights. Max carved out time himself and did the same with some of his crew, sending a man here and there, usually Bubba but also one of his foremen, a man Deke didn’t know too well but he did know the guy was solid, his name, Deacon Gates.